Guys in Girls Clothing
by Hydroleaf
Summary: How far are you willing to go to win costumes of your favorite Canadian comedians?
1. Chapter 1: Always Jingle!

**Yays! Another fanfic by me! :3 Hopefully, everyone will love it... First of all, South Park is owned by the marvelous Matt Stone and Trey Parker. Second, this fic is rated T for crossdressing, curse words, Liane Cartman, and pedophiles! :\**

"There are six different prizes you can win depending on how much you sell. On Level A, you get this awesome farm animal eraser set! Just sell eleven through twenty items. Level B has an electric, colorful spinning top and erasers. Sell twenty-one through thirty items. Level C is a glow-in-the-dark backpack! Comes in three colors. You get the erasers and the top. Gotta sell thirty-one through fourty items. If you're lucky enough to get to Level D, you get a CD player that comes with a radio. Everything under Level D is yours! Sell fourty-one through fifty items. If you make it past Level D and reach Level E, you get a Terrance costume as well as a Phillip costume and everything under this level.! Sell fifty-one and up! So sell, sell, sell!"

The student body of South Park Elementary dismissed from the auditorium. Several adults passed out selling sheets to each student exiting the room. Now standing in the hallway, a raven haired boy poked his red head friend on the shoulder.

"Kyle, did you see those Terrance and Phillip costumes? Halloween might not be near, but I still want one!"

"Yeah, dude! They look like those fan made costumes that cost a lot on eBay... If we sell more than fifty party snack sets, we can get the Terrance and Phillip costume set as well as the other prizes! Let's team up with each other for the fundraiser, Stan."

"You two faggots can team up with each other, but I'll still get more names than you!" said an obese boy standing next to Kyle.

"Cartman, you can barely walk without hyperventilating on the next few steps. What makes you think you can go door to door and sell stuff?" Kyle said.

"I don't even have to lift a finger to get those party packs sold."

"Yeah right... Let's go," Kyle cried, not believing his friend.

* * *

Kyle was sitting on Stan's living room floor, scribbling words on a piece of loose leaf paper. The Jew was spending the night at his friend's house. Stan walked out of the kitchen carrying two sandwiches bundled in some napkins. He sat down with his best friend and gave him a sandwich.

"So what should we say about the party snacks?" Stan asked, curious of what was written on the paper. He took a bite out of the square meal.

"We should first ask them if they ever bought a candy set or those cheese cubes and thought they taste bad. If they respond yes, we can introduce them to the items in our selling sheets and show then the low prices. If they respond no to our question, we'll just persuade them our party snack sets are better. To make them focus on the snacks even more, we can sing a jingle for them. We can play the guitar and create lyrics for the song, too."

"Let's use the tune of Always by Saliva."

"Okay, let's see..." Kyle began to write the lyrics to the song, Stan giving pointers and ideas between each written line. By the time the jingle was complete, their sandwiches were reduced to crumbs.

"Finish! Since it's a jingle, it won't be the entire song, but just the main stuff. Here's how it sounds:

_You seeeeee a cheese cube set at the store.  
Well, hold up! You see, this is why we are here at your door.  
Assorrrrr ted candies stretch like a mile.  
Well, don't you buy those cheap things, for they are so out of style._

_($3.25, $3.25, $3.25) If you purchase them from us!_

_The flavors, the texture; you will love this product.  
The low price, the pleasure; you will love this so much.  
Just buy our party snack sets. I assure you you'll love it.  
Or buy them from the dumb store and eat their piece of shit!_"

"Great! I think you should be the main singer and I can play the guitar."

"Fine with me. Maybe your dad can give us some tips on how to sell," Kyle said. He noticed Randy Marsh walking down the stairs and quickly called for him.

"Mr. Marsh?"

"Oh, hey Kyle and Stan! Need anything, boys?" asked Randy, tilting side to side slightly. Maybe he had a cup of beer... or two...

"Dad, we're having a fundraiser at our school and we're trying to come up with ideas to help us sell. Do you have any suggestions?"

"A fundraiser? That's kind of ironic because I was just wa- watching an interesting show that said young girls can easily capture customers. How about you dress up as girls? You'd win lots of cash, I bet," Randy reluctantly suggested.

"No way! I'm not dressing as a chick, even if chicks can sell stuff effectively..." Stan refused.

"Your dad has a point, though... I was reading a message on this website and it said this guy selling chocolate bars crossdressed and wore a wig. He recieved $500 in less than two hours!"

"Are you sure you really want to experiment with that, though? We could seriously mess up our reputation if someone finds out..."

"If you're willing, I'm willing! We can get some girl wigs at the store tomorrow. We can buy some girly shirts and pants so we'll look convincing, too."

"We better sell something, though, because I'd hate to find out I betrayed my manhood for a prize I didn't win..."

**Well, wasn't this chapter dandy!? Be waiting for my updates!**


	2. Chapter 2: Rambling

**If a word is _italicized_, it's being said in a feminine way. (Not in all cases...)**

It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon. Two young girls were standing side by side in front of Stan's house. One had scarlet hair that passed her shoulders. A green ushanka crowned her hed and a clipboard, a big envelope, and a pen were in her grip. She wore a blue long sleeved shirt with green floral patterns, green gloves, and sea-green pants. The other female was wearing a red and black shirt with a brown hooded jacket, red gloves, and blue jeans. She was holding a guitar. Her hair was elbow length and black. A long, curly bang poked from under her blue hat with the red poof ball on the top. Wait... Ushanka? Poof ball cap? In front of Stan's house? Either these girls are stalking, Style fan-girls or two bodies are in disguise! Randy Marsh exited his house and walked over to the two girls.

"Stan, Kyle, remember to keep a feminine pose, use a girly voice, and when you say please, bat your eyelashes. I assure you those fundraising prizes will be yours if you follow those steps," explained Randy, revealing the identity of the two "girls".

Stan and Kyle straightened their posture, made a high pitched buzz to raise the pitch of their voice, and responded, "_Okay_."

"Your girl names are Kylie and Stacy. I'll be waiting at home if you need me."

"Yeah, Dad. We'll see you later." Stan and Kyle walked away and ventured out on their quest to sell party snack sets.

**meanwhile at the Cartman's household-**

"Mom, I'm going to the park. Don't forget to sell those party snack sets!" Cartman screamed so his mother could hear. He walked out of the house.

"Okay, poopsikens. I'll get that money for you~" Liane obeyed as she picked up a phone and called several numbers. Each person she called was male. She invited them over to her house.

**back to Stan and Kyle*

"Let's go to this house. Their's a car in the driveway, so someone must be there," Kyle analyzed, him and Stan turning to the concrete walkway. They climbed up the pink porch and knocked on the door, waiting for a response. A few seconds later, an elderly lady opened the door and greeted them.

"Well, hello, little girls! Who are you two darlings?" the grey haired, baggy eyed woman asked.

"_Hi, ma'am. My name is Stacy and this is Kylie. We are selling party snack sets. Would you like to purchase one_?"

"_We have a packet that lists the different types of party snacks. If you like entertainment, we can even sing you a catchy song about the sets, too_!" Kyle added, giving her the packet. Batting his lashes, he cooed, "_Please buy one and pleasure the discount you're getting_."

The old timer flipped through the pages. "Well, you adorable, kind girls do look deserving. It's nice to see young folks working hard. It reminds me of when I was younger; you see, I had a paper route when I was just about your age. Each week, I'd recieve $5.00 for my simple career. I even delivered my papers in rain, snow, sleet, and hail. I lot of the boys and girls in my neighborhood teased and shunned me because they believed women were made for staying at home. They thought us women needed to feed the man of the house... Men! They are awful creatures that won't give you a fervent kiss on the cheek or reassure you when you fall. They just want to get a piece of your homemade apple pettootie pie! That reminds me of the boyfriend I had at age fifteen. I thought he was a beau! He seemed nice for me, but I found out he just wanted to get in my pants... Speaking of pants, I love those cute clothes you children wear! We never had those cutie clothes in-"

"**We get it**!" Stan inturrupted, covering his ears. Realizing his impoliteness, he uncovered his ears and bashfully said, "_Um... we need you to go ahead and fill in the chart on Kylie's clipboard. Otherwise, our valued customers will buy from the other people selling_..."

Kyle gave the lady the clipboard and pen. She clamped the packet she was still holding back on the clipboard under the chart. She marked her information on the chart: the type and number of party snack sets she wanted, the total price, her name, and her phone number. Afterwards, she gave the board back to Kyle.

"Just wait right here for a second while I get the money for you," Mrs. Phloris, according to the paper, ordered, walking inside of her house to retrieve the money she owed.

"I can't believe she ordered three party snack sets!" whispered Kyle, staring at the chart on the clipboard.

"I think the please thing persuaded her..." Stan said.

Mrs. Phloris reappeared at the door. Clutched in her wrinkly hand was $9.75. She gave the money to "Kylie". After he recounted the money to verify the total was correct, he cautiously dropped the cash inside of his large envelope.

"_Thanks for buying from us, ma'am_!" Stan smiled as he and Kyle departed from the property. After hours of singing, selling, and recounting, Stan and Kyle sold at least twenty-one party snack sets! That includes the sets they sold to the elderly Mrs. Phloris. The two arrived at Stan's house afterwards. Stan and Kyle stripped from their feminine tops and their irritating wigs. They removed their gloves as well and reclined shirtless on Stan's bed.

"Well, we made a lot of money today! Even though I feel slightly undignified for being the opposite gender, it makes me happy that it's going to pay off on Halloween!" Stan cheered, his hands behind his head.

"Yeah, I can't believe we passed as girls so well. At this rate, those Terrance and Phillip costumes will be proudly part of our wardrobe."

The room was silent for a moment. Stan, hesitantly, began to ask, "Do you think we should continue playing "Dress Up"? We barely evaded everyone who knew us. If that tree wasn't there while we were walking to one of the houses, Craig would have noticed us and spread the word that we crossdressed!"

"That was a close call... but I'm sure we could raise that money quick if we continue the strategy we used today. Speaking of strategy, I wonder how everyone else is doing with their sales..."

*back at Cartman's house*

"Mom, please explain to me why you only raised $19.50," Eric calmly said to his mom, who smelt of sweat.

The poor, confused mother hated to disappoint her son, but knew it would just make him more depressed if she kept it secret. "I'm sorry, Eric, but while trying to raise the money, I accidentally forgot to collect some of their payments. I didn't mean to..."

Cartman made a fretful sigh and sheild his face with his hands. "I guess I'm going to have to raise this money myself... My mom betrays me by forgeting her duties and now I'll have to work twice as hard as everyone else in order to get that money. Fuck..." He quietly walked upstairs, his head down and mumbling curses at his mother.


End file.
